Lifeline
by VerifiablyInsane
Summary: Daryl has never had much praise or comfort in his life. When the group starts thanking him for the things that he does, he has no idea how to take it but secretly he yearns for it, especially from Rick. Most of the group don't notice the small looks Daryl gives Rick, the gestures that he does just to get a word of praise or a look of recognition, but Shane does... SLASH
1. Chapter 1

"Fucking pathetic," Daryl mumbles to himself as he sets up his tent far enough away from everyone else that he can still see them, but that's about all the contact he wants. "Shoulda left after they ditched Merle on top of the fucking building."

"That's no way to be, son," Dale said from behind him.

"The hell do you know about it, old man," Daryl asked, whipping around surprised by the sudden voice behind him. Shaking his head, he wondered how the _hell_ he didn't hear the fool come up behind him. Must be stuck in his own head more than he thought. That just wouldn't do.

"I know that you're a valuable member of this group and we're happy to have you. Especially Carol. No one searches for her little girl like you do," Dale continued, cautiously stepping closer.

Daryl grumbled inwardly, still fumbling with his tent poles before getting them snapped into place. "Fuck off, Dale."

Dale just nodded, silently hoping the younger man didn't disappear in the middle of the night. Walking back towards the others, he decided that something needed to be said to Rick about it, just in case. "Hey Rick, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, Dale. What's on your mind?" Rick straightened up from looking at the maps, planning out their search grid for the following day. Shane straightened up next to him, subconsciously putting his hand on his gun at his side.

"I don't think Daryl is feeling like he's a part of the group anymore. He's put himself away from the main camp," he motioned towards the tent across the field, "and is grumbling about having left after losing Merle."

Rick nodded, looking back down at the map and up at Shane. "I'll talk to him. Make sure he knows how much we appreciate everything he does for us." Shane just rolled his eyes and huffed.

Dale nodded, walking away. His job was done as far as he was concerned. Climbing back up on top of the RV, he sat next to Andrea to take watch.

Shane turned to Rick, hands on his hips. "You really going to go make nice with a Dixon?"

"Yeah, Shane, I am. He's most of the reason why all of us still get at least one meal a day. Don't really see much of a choice there. If he runs off, I can't see any of us providing as much food."

"He's looking for a fucking ghost more than he's hunting for food, Rick. What good is he going to be when he gets himself bit running after a lost cause?"

"Shane…," Rick sighed. They had had this argument numerous times in the past two days and at least three times already that day.

"Forty-eight hours, Rick. That's how long we were trained to search for a live person. You and I both know that you start looking for a body after that. And hell, in this world, I wouldn't even give it 24 hours."

"Dammit, Shane, I _know_. But if it was _Carl _I know you'd be singing a different tune. For Carol, we have to keep looking. At least until we have some answers," he said, turning his back on the larger man. "I'm going to go talk to Daryl. See if he'll rejoin the camp at least." Shane watched as Rick walked the distance over the field to the tiny tent. He knew things could go south fairly quickly with the Dixon. He'd seen it plenty of times before Rick found them, but no matter what he told him, Rick would always see the good in other people. Shane scoffed. There was nothing good about the Dixon clan. In a quick decision, he followed his partner halfway, hand still poised on his gun. It may be the apocalypse but Rick was still his partner, dammit, and he would be there if he needed backup.

"Daryl?" Rick called out.

He heard some muttered cursing before a caustic, "The hell you want officer?"

"You don't have to call me officer. I've told you that. But I would like a word with you if you have a minute," he said, stepping in front of the zipped up tent flap.

Daryl zipped open the tent, stepping out to face him. "What? Kinda busy setting up shop if you haven't noticed."

Rick nodded, hands on his hips, looking around at Daryl's few things spread out over the ground, noticing that some of Merle's stuff was still there. "Yeah, I noticed. Was wonderin' why you left the main camp."

Daryl shrugged. "Like it better out here. 'S quieter."

"Well I can certainly understand that, but you know there's safety in numbers and we like you to be a part of our camp."

Daryl scoffed, turning around to pickup his crossbow, he swung the business end of it at Rick. Shane took a few steps closer towards the duo before he realized it wasn't loaded. Rick noticed him out of the corner of his eye and hoped that he stayed away. Daryl and him didn't seem to be too friendly. "You ain't the boss of me, _Sheriff_," he spat out, the last word sounding like a curse. "You can't keep me under your fucking thumb like you can the rest of those hens."

Rick cautioned a step forward, reaching a hand out. "'S not like that, Daryl. We care about you," he said, still moving forward slightly, hand extended. "We want you to be safe. You have to sleep sometime. We know you about kill yourself looking for Sophia and hunting game for the whole group." Standing a few feet in front of the swaying, hostile man, Rick softened his face, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. Even though the crossbow wasn't loaded, he knew damn well it would be a handy, heavy weapon. When his fingers finally touched skin, he felt how wound up the younger man was. Gently, he kneaded the shoulder, trying to get him to calm down through his touch. "We appreciate everything you do, Daryl. You've kept us alive and there's no proper way to thank you for that except to help protect you."

Something in those words made Daryl's face twitch as he yanked his shoulder out of Rick's grasp. "Protect me?" he shrieked. "Fuck that. Been protecting myself my whole life. Ain't never needed anyone to protect me before, ain't gonna start now just because the dead's walking."

Rick let his hand drop back down to his side, nodded his understanding. "Okay, but at least join us around the fire and share in what you brought back. It's only right, Daryl. We want you to be with us, as one of us," he said, trying to extend an olive branch in response to whatever had set him off.

Daryl hesitated, glancing over at Shane. Of course he would know he was there. RIck cursed himself mentally for not blocking the other man with his body from his vision. The last thing he needed was for Shane's mere presence to send this man off into a violent tirade, but the response he was given actually surprised him. Daryl nodded once, curtly, before turning his back on him. "Great! We'll see you in a bit then," he answered, his voice soft but hopeful, his hand hesitating slightly over the other's back before just dropping it back down at his side. Rick sighed, turning away from the ramshackle setup and started walking towards Shane. "So what'd he say?"

Rick just shrugged. "Said he doesn't need protecting, but at least he'll be there around the fire tonight."

Shane turned once to look back, catching Daryl staring at them walking away. There was a look on his face that bothered him. He couldn't quite put the words to it, but he would almost say it was like… longing… Shane shook his head. Nah, Dixon's weren't capable of showing tender emotion, especially of _that _variety.

A few hours later found the small group clustered around a fire, the Greene farmhouse dark in the distance. Daryl had wandered over after mostly all the food was gone, but Carol had kept a small plate for him. He took it, not quite saying 'thank you' but nodding his appreciation none the less. Rick watched him from across the blaze, eating like he hadn't in days when he thought no one was looking. He made a mental note to talk to him about eating more later. Right now, though, he was just thankful the man was around and semi-socializing with them.

A bustle of noise caused Rick to jump out of his stupor in staring across the flames. Shane had appeared next to him, propping himself up on a log. "It's a damn shame. You see the way that boy eats? Like he ain't civilized."

"He's starving, Shane. We all are," he answered quietly.

"Yeah, but we don't eat like we ain't got manners. Look at him over there. I think he's going to eat the damn paper bowl."

Rick adjusted himself on his own log, the conversation making him a little uneasy and almost defensive. "I wouldn't blame him. 'S probably good fiber," he half joked.

"Can't have someone like that around Carl," Shane finished, grabbing a log next to him and adding it to the fire.

For a split second, it looked to Rick like Shane had caught Daryl's face on fire, the flames licking at his tanned, dirty skin, making those crystal blue eyes shine as he caught the other man's gaze. "You really think Carl's table manners are on my list of concerns right now? I'm just happy he has something to eat," he whispered harshly. Before thinking, he stood up, looking down upon Shane for a beat before striding around the fire all sure about himself before sitting down in the dirt next to Daryl. "Never thought I'd be saying this," he started, glancing at the startled look on the other man's face, "but thanks for the squirrel. Made a tasty stew."

Daryl shrugged, but continued to eat, a little more civilized now.

Turning his own blue eyes on the younger man, Rick continued, "No… really," he said, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder again and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Because of you my wife and son have food in their stomachs tonight."

Daryl sat for a minute, his body tense under the touch of the other man's hand as he stared into the fire, his gaze flicking up to meet Shane's over the tips of the flames. "Wasn't nothing. Ran into a pack of squirrels on my way back from the search. Dumb luck."

Rick squeezed again before letting go. "Well, it was delicious dumb luck. Which you deserve everything that is still in that pot. Don't be shy now."

Carol nodded her agreement. "Daryl, please," she said, as she stood up to get the spoon and dump more stew into his bowl. "This meal is because of you anyways."

Shane watched the spectacle, listening to their quiet words of praise for the redneck. He shook his head. He went through hell and killed a man, not that he'd tell anyone that, to bring back medication for Rick's son and he didn't get this much attention. Despite the dim lighting and the lick of the flames between them, Shane saw the muted smile flash across Daryl's face before it was replaced with the stoic visage he always wore. Shaking his head, he stood up, unable to take this nonsense anymore he headed off for his tent. "Fucking ridiculous," he muttered under his breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Shane sat on the stump in the middle of the woods, silently cursing himself and all of those around him. For a split second he hated that he had shaved his head for the simple reason that he wanted to pull his hair so he could focus on a different kind of pain. A real pain and not the rip in the heart he had now.

A baby?

He knew it was his. It had to be. Rick had no right to claim that child. That was his child. Swiftly, Shane swung around, his fist connected with the nearest tree. Blood oozed from the open gashes on his knuckles, skin sticking to the bark from the impact of the hit. A sick, sinister smile covered his face as he stood up, poised with both fists against the tree. "That's my fucking baby, Lori," he howled throwing a three-two punch combination at the tree. He almost wished he could uppercut the bark, but settled for a branch. "Fuck Rick. That man ain't your husband. I'm the one that saved you and Carl. I'm the man you can rely on to keep you safe."

"I think you're off your fucking rocker," came the southern drawl behind him.

Shane whirled, surprised to see Daryl so close, squirrels swinging from his hip from his abrupt stop. His crossbow was loaded but pointed down at the forest floor giving Shane a false confidence that he could knock it out of his hand before he could raise it on him if need be.

"That fuck you know about it, Dixon?" he spat, flexing his bloody knuckles at his sides. His body heaved with the intensity of his breath and emotion. Every nerve ending was on fire and his body was ready. If Daryl wanted a fight, he was more than willing to go more than ten rounds right now.

Instead, Daryl just shrugged and tried to walk past him. "Just saw ya punch a tree yelling at a woman that ain't here who ain't yer wife."

Shane was too quick, grabbing the younger man and throwing him against the tree he just savagely beat, disarming him of his crossbow without incident. "It ain't none of your business, you got it?" he sneered. "'Sides, ain't like you don't have secrets of your own."

Daryl's body tensed up, his fight or flight mode being thrown into full gear. Shane pinned him hard, using his full body weight to keep the struggling man down. "Ain't got no

secrets," he huffed as he twisted and tried to pry his way out of the steel strong, bloody grip.

Shane leaned in close, pressing his body flush against the other man's, instantly ceasing all of his fighting. Strong hands still gripped the dirty biceps, flexing wildly underneath his fingers, keeping him trapped. "You think I don't see the way you look at Rick? Huh? You think I don't see how you're like a damn lapdog all curled up at his side, waiting for any handouts you can get, even if it's just a pat on the head. Fucking pathetic, Daryl. Is that the way your daddy and brother treated you? Huh?" he hummed.

Daryl's face grew red hot, tears threatening to fall from behind slitted eyes. "Fuck off, Shane! You don't know nothing!" he shouted at him, struggling against the larger man again. "Ain't like that!"

But Shane continued, his anger finding a new outlet. "Naw, I think it is just like that. Rick all shows the smallest amount of affection towards you and you're head over heels. Just one word of praise and you're done for. Did you jack off in your tent last night after that little scene y'all had around the fire? Your hand stroking your cock, wishing it was the same hand that was all up on your shoulder?"

"Fuck off, Shane. It ain't like that. I ain't like that. I ain't queer," Daryl spat at him, finally dislodging the other man enough to get free but not before he was tripped.

Sputtering around in the dead leaves littering the forest floor, Daryl was back up quickly, crossbow in hand. Shane contemplated making another run at the man, but the look of dishevelment and the crossbow raised, pointed at his heart, stopped him. Fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, body still thrumming for some sort of energy release, he yelled, "You going to shoot me? Huh, Daryl? You ain't got the balls, boy!"

Daryl grunted, eyeing Shane from the straightline of the bow, seriously contemplating ending all of their problems right here. But no, he knew Shane was looking for a fight and that he could damn well lose it quickly with the man as strung up as he was. Instead, he just mumbled, "Naw, you ain't my problem to get rid of." Making sure he still had the squirrels tied to himself, he lowered his crossbow down, swung on his heel and left, giving Shane his back.

"What? You going to run off and tell your boyfriend Rick I assaulted you?" he called after him.

Daryl stopped, turned his head slightly with a small smirk. "Nah, he'll be pissed enough

when he finds out you've been fucking his wife and that ain't his baby."

Hours later Shane wandered back to camp, hands bloody and bruised and his clothes stained. The others already situated around the fire in the dimming sunlight eyed him as he walked straight back to his tent, unzipping it and disappearing inside.

Daryl watched from his own camp a little ways away from the others, shaking his head. Even the drama from the old world carried into this world. There was shit that he'd rather not get involved in and that three way relationship was definitely one of them. With a grunt of disapproval, he got up and dipped into his tent as he saw Carol stand up from the group, looking over at him. The ground gave away her soft footsteps as she neared his tent.

Cautiously, she called out, "Daryl? We have food ready. Why don't you join us?"

Her shadow was just barely visible through the tent wall as he stared up from the ground.

"Naw, I'll be all right."

"Daryl, we'd really like it if you would join us," she tried again.

He grumbled silently. Damn woman wouldn't take a hint. Moved all the way out here for a reason and the fucking people still wouldn't leave him the hell alone. "I said no." A full minute ticked by before he heard her walk away. Closing his eyes, he let a semi-alert slumber take over, his body slick with sweat still from the stifling Georgia heat.

"Daryl?" Rick's soft voice woke him up. He grunted in response, rolling over onto his side, hoping like hell the officer would go away. But alas, "I brought you some food. Carol said that you might be too tired to come over. I thought it would be nice to eat out here with you, and maybe have a conversation. Just the two of us."

"The hell you want, Grimes? 'M sleepin," he growled.

"Daryl…," Rick tried again. "You have to eat something. Please? I'm not beyond begging."

He sat up with a huff, unzipping the tent to send the sheriff the infamous Dixon glare. He was met a soft, kind face, and a hesitant smile. "Well hello there."

Daryl considered physically throwing the man out of his camp. Yelling at him for all to hear that ain't nobody welcome over by his stuff unless he invites them and ain't none of them ever invited. But as Rick pushed the plate of food at him, his stomach betrayed him as it rumbled at the smell of something edible that wasn't tree bark or berries. Rick smiled knowingly, walking over to sit on an overturned log, taking the food with him.

"Fine," Daryl relented, slowly climbing out of his tent, putting his boots on and zipping the tent back up to prevent any bugs from getting in. Sitting across from the sheriff after taking the offered plate of food, he ate silently, praying for the man to get the hint and leave him the hell alone.

"So did you find anything today? With Sophia I mean…" Rick asked, before shoveling a forkful of food in his mouth.

Daryl just shook his head as a response, but decided to add, "Still goin' out tomorrow though. Ain't givin' up."

Rick smiled at him. "Naw, none of us are giving up, but you're the most dedicated I'd say. Would you like some company tomorrow?"

Company? Daryl froze, trying to assess the officer's motive behind the offer. Eyeing him warily, he answered, "Nah, better on my own. Faster."

Rick nodded but looked slightly disappointed. "You know, it's safer to go in pairs."

Daryl shook his head. "Not when the other half is loud as a fucking ox in the brush crashing into everything. Scare away the game and call the walkers. Might even scare away Sophia. She'd think you's a walker."

Slightly taken aback, Rick gawked at the man. Daryl just continued to eat, staring down into the dirt, wishing he had started a fire now just for something to stare at. "I… I think that's the most you've said to me since Merle…"

Daryl scoffed. Putting his finished plate down next to him on the stump, he just shrugged. "Ain't got much to say. Ain't chatty Cathy like the rest of y'all. 'S not like we have anything in common anyways."

Rick shrugged back at him, putting his own plate down next to him. "We might. You never know until you try. You know, I used to hunt and fish, back before Carl was born. I was never very good at it though. Definitely nowhere near your level. It was a fun sport though. I enjoyed it."

Daryl glared up at him through his slitted eyes. "Ain't no sport. It's how I eat. Always has been ever since I was big enough to hold a weapon. Think we got anything else in common there, Sheriff?" he asked, biting out the last word.

Rick shifted on his log, clearly uncomfortable by the turn in conversation. "Shit, Daryl, you know I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sorry that you took offense. I'm just trying to make conversation. I want you to feel like part of the group. I want you to feel valued."

Daryl just shrugged back. "I think you'd spend your time better handling Shane than me. Met him in the woods today beating the shit out of a tree."

The look on Rick's face was worth the anger he knew Shane was going to throw at him later. "The hell?" he asked. "Why was he doing that?"

Daryl just shrugged, now seriously contemplating that fire. Though now he kinda did want to wander over to join the others, just to see how the threesome acted around each other.

"I'll deal with him."

Daryl nodded.

"Why don't we go join the other camp now? Return these plates and sit by the campfire?" Rick asked, standing up and collecting Daryl's plate before asking. He extended a hand out, expecting the younger man to take it.

With a grunt of recognition, he took the offered hand, allowing Rick to pull him up to stand. In truth, Daryl was just wanting to watch the drama. He wanted to ignore everything that Rick had been saying to him about being a valued member of the group. The only value he brought to them was food. If it weren't for him, they'd starve. That was what he reasoned. It was the only thing that kept Rick even talking to him or trying to keep him in the group. What other reason would there be?

With a simple nod to Rick he signaled that he would follow, but Rick held his hand out in front of him. As Daryl walked past, he felt the warmth of Rick's hand graze over his lower back. A slight look back and he caught sight of the other man's small smile as he dropped his hand down by his side, slipping the hand not holding the plates into the pocket of his pants.

"Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable around us, Daryl?" he asked quietly on their way back over.

Daryl just shrugged, "I'm fine."

Rick stopped, bringing the other to a stop as well. Here Daryl expected the fatherly talk about how he should treat other people as he wished to be treated and other nonsense his

teachers told him growing up until he dropped out of school. Instead, Rick just nodded.

"Yeah, I guess you are. Maybe what I meant to say was how can we rebuild your trust? I know after Merle... we didn't intend for that outcome."

Daryl waved him off and started walking again. "Merle's a tough bastard. He's all right. I'm all right. Trust y'all enough not to stab me in the middle of the night."

They stopped talking as they strode into camp, approaching the fire. Surprised looks met them, glancing from Daryl to Rick. The incredulous and almost angry look on Lori's face though made Daryl feel a little smug. Truth be told, he liked that he still made some people cringe. He was still considering heading off on his own to look for his brother, though who the hell knows where he had ended up, but he knew he still had his edge when people who somewhat knew him looked at him in horror.

Daryl sat in the dirt a few feet away from the fire, across from Shane. The blaze licked at his face from his line of vision, framing the already dark features in the shadows. Daryl felt the gaze bore into him as Rick sat himself down next to him. Everyone else cautiously avoided the man with the exception of Carol and Carl. Carl was already sent to bed, leaving the spot next to Lori vacant. Her eyes cast nervous glances between Rick and Shane, only occasionally landing on Daryl as if she was still confused by his presence.

The jealousy hung thick in the air, seeping its way through the embers. Silently, Daryl side-eyed everyone else in the group. No one seemed to notice the pure hatred and envy oozing from the man across the fire. Or if they did, they had learned the survival instinct of not poking the beast. Scooting half an inch closer to Rick, Daryl tipped his chin at Shane, watching the flames dance in the black irises of his eyes. Glancing over at Lori, he noticed her eyes watching him, that deer in headlights look continually present on her face that he so hated.

Almost on cue, Rick leaned in close to him, whispering something that he didn't even hear but a grunted response was accepted as an answer. Bright blue eyes never lost contact with the browns that watched every move he made as he leaned in, feigning interest. A simple smirk and Daryl turned to Rick, whispering back to him, "Shane's about to go off his gourd."

Rick looked over at him. The man was in a half standing position, body taut and poised to pounce, hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes though... Rick recognized murderous rage when he saw it.

"Shane? Think we can talk for a minute?" Rick asked.


	3. Chapter 3

"What's he doing over here?" Shane asked hotly as Rick led him over towards their tents.

"He's a part of our group," he sighed back, hands going to his hips, body angled so he could see both the fire in the circle and the fire in Shane's eyes. He noticed Daryl out of the corner of his eye, watching them from his sideways slitted glare. "He's not a bad guy, Shane. He feels outcasted, like we don't like and appreciate him. He's not like his brother." Rick stepped closer, sharing the other's space as he leaned in and whispered, "We'd be starving even more if he left us."

Shane closed his eyes, breathing in Rick's scent- a salty musk mixed with sweat from a day's labor in the Georgia heat. "He tell you that, huh? In your little powwow with him out there by his tent that he put separate from us? No one asked him to move out there. No one is asking him to hunt for us either."

Rick shook his head. "No, he didn't tell me that in so many words. It's in his actions, Shane and you just said it yourself. No one iis/i asking him to hunt for us. No one is asking him to go look for Sophia. Hell, more people are asking him to stop looking than to keep going. All that shows that he cares about us and wants to be a part of the group. It's high time that certain people stop pushing him out." Rick sought out Shane's downcasted eyes, trying to see the emotion flickering through the dark browns. "I'm asking you, Shane, to try for me." His hand casually rested on the taller man's strong shoulder before caressing down the bicep and coming to rest on the crook of his elbow. "Talk to him. He's not a bad guy."

Shane nodded, his head swimming from the scent of Rick, the feel of his hand on his arm. Fuck he hadn't felt like that around this man since high school. "What's your motive with him? Why are you getting so close to him?"

Rick sighed, looking back over the fire. The younger man sat staring at the fire, knees drawn up to his chest. Conversation went on around him but he seemed oblivious to it all. "Remember going into those houses on 273 calls?* We'd get there and see a child cowering in the corner." He motioned over towards the fire. "That right there is exactly how I picture that child as an adult. You met his brother."

"Yeah, Merle was a piece of work…"

"Exactly. Daryl was the youngest in the family. Think back on your training, man."

Shane sighed, running his hand over his shaved head. "Yeah, Rick, okay. But if he puts anyone in danger, I'm taking care of the problem."

Rick nodded back. "Yeah, okay, Shane. I hear ya, but I don't think there will be a problem."

Together they headed back to the fire, Rick taking his seat next to Daryl, bringing the other man out of his stupor. Shane watched from across the fire as Rick casually leaned in to talk so only he could hear. A feeling that he recognized bloomed in his core as he watched a small smile spread across Daryl's dirty face at something Rick said. He wasn't so sure he could try anymore.

The next morning dawned bright in the summer haze. It was hot before the sun was even up but Shane pulled on his boots and decided to make good on getting to know Daryl Dixon. If only for Rick's sake, but especially because his partner had taken some sort of special interest in the other man and he didn't like it. He wanted to know what made Daryl tick. Trudging out to the other man's tent, he realized that it was empty. With a huff, he looked around, eyeing the treeline. "Fucking hell, Dixon. Can't you wait for backup for just one fucking day?" he mumbled to himself.

Walking back to his tent, he picked up his sidearm and a knife before being stopped by Lori. "Where are you going?" she asked, accusations sharp as she stared daggers at him.

"Gotta go find Daryl. He shouldn't be going off by himself. It's too dangerous."

"First Rick and now you? What is it with your fascination with that man?" she said hotly, arms crossing over her chest.

Shane sighed, trying to walk away from her but she stopped him with a small on his arm. The touch didn't had the same fire behind it as it used to. It certainly didn't hold the power over him that Rick's had last night. "Why? Just let him go."

Shane shook his head. "I can't. I told Rick…"

"Shane," she whispered harshly. "We can't lose you too. Daryl is expendable. He's nobody, he's…"

"He's the man who puts meat on your plate, Lori," he interrupted. He had no reason to be defending the Dixon, especially to Lori, but now he could see where Rick was coming from. Daryl had been the man most put out and supportive of their group next to Rick and Shane himself. He earned his spot, but Shane had to make sure that he could mesh with the group and not be a complete asshole like his brother.

"I'm sure you could hunt. Or Rick. Glenn can make more runs into the city…," she tried to rationalize. "But I can't lose you because of him. I'm pregnant, Shane-"

Shane hummed, "I know damn well you're pregnant, Lori. And that might be my baby and it might not but how you going to explain that to Rick, huh? Regardless, I need to go find Daryl." Carl gave him a funny look from under his dad's old Sheriff's hat as he stalked by him sitting at the picnic table. He nodded once, curtly. Lori's words had been clear, but what she didn't say was louder to him than anything she actually voiced. She wanted both men still. Well, he wasn't very good at sharing.

Like a bull, he crashed into the surrounding woods, trying to not just scream out for Daryl and tell him what a fucking idiot he was for going out on his own like that. Hunting and a search party is better and more efficient when done in a group. That's police work 101. And this fucktard has him going off in the bushes by ihimself/i now to try to find his ass. Suddenly an arrow whizzed by his head, lodging itself in a tree inches from his left ear. "Fuck, Dixon," he breathed. The small amount of panic made him stop dead in his tracks as he saw the other man appear.

"Like a bull in a china shop. Thought that'd be the only way to make ya stop," he answered, wrestling his arrow lose from the treebark.

"You could have just said something," he breathed.

"And risk you taking a swing at me like ya did yesterday? Fuck that. Arrow was safer for me. So what happened this time? She tell ya that ya ain't the daddy?"

Shane breathed for a minute, looking down at the forest floor. A beetle crawled across some fallen leaves, disappearing under a pinecone. He watched its full journey before deciding to answer. "No. I came looking for you. You left early this morning."

"Gotta get an early start to find Sophia. Hafta make it to the river today. What did you want me for? Want to beat me for walking up on you yesterday?" he asked, starting to walk back to where he came from.

Shane shook his head, following the other man, much quieter this time in the brush. "Nah, thought you could use some back up."

Daryl stopped and turned halfway, looking the other man up and down. He took in the pistol at his side and the hunting knife on his other hip. "Naw, I'm better on my own."

"I also just wanted to spend some time with you," he said before the hunter could turn around. "Christ, that sounded gay."

Daryl snorted. "A bit. Why do ya want to spend time with me?"

Shane shrugged. "Because Rick made a good point last night. He said you bring us food and look for Sophia without asking and we just push you away because we don't know you. I want to try, Daryl."

He grumbled under his breath as he turned around again to keep walking. "I bring y'all food so ya don't die. I don't need that hanging on my fucking head."

Shane trudges along behind the man, not having been told to leave him alone yet. He feels confident that he'll be able to talk his way into the hunter's good graces.

"Stop. Ya need ta learn to walk in the woods and not barrel through them like a bear. You'll scare off everything within a mile radius and we won't have nothin' to eat and no Sophia."

Shane sighed. "Ok, how do I walk then?"

"Walk like you're sneakin' up on someone. Ya did that a lot as a cop, right?"

Shane shrugged. He was a sheriff in a small county. He didn't do a whole lot of sneaking up on anyone because there wasn't many people to sneak up on, but he didn't want to tell Daryl that. But fine, he would try to walk quieter.

Three hours later, Shane was tired and Daryl had a mess of squirrels and a couple birds hanging from a cord wrapped around his waist, but no Sophia. And Shane was bored out of his mind. "So you and Rick getting friendly, huh?" he decided to try conversation. Usually you start a conversation on common ground, but he wasn't sure what common ground they had except for still being alive during the zombie apocalypse and Rick, so he tried for the later. Daryl just grunted in return. "You know, Rick. He's been my best friend for like, ever, man. That man has so much dirt on me," he laughed. "But he's a straight arrow. Only thing he ever did wrong was drink a few beers in high school. I couldn't even get him to smoke pot."

"He don't seem like the type," Daryl muttered, watching his feet as he walked.

"Nah, I guess he wasn't. But there was this one time, we scaled this old farmer's fence. He had a water tower on his property that could be seen by like half the town. My buddy Jake had gotten ahold of our hot English teacher's phone number. So we took a can of spray paint and plastered it on the side of the water tower. Rick got his pants caught on the fence when we tried to high tail it out of there. Our friends took off and left us, I had to pull him down off that fence post without his pants first and then we had to get those offa there. Couldn't be leaving anything behind. His ma was so pissed when we got back to the house. Said he fell on the asphalt and ripped him. Rick was always a shitty liar," Shane laughed at the memory. "That's one of my favorite memories, man," he sighed fondly. He wondered idly if that water tower was still standing and if Miss Jenkins had even survived. "You ever have friends like that? That you just fucked around town with?"

Daryl stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at Shane, but kept walking before he answered. "The only friends I had were Merle's and they were all drug addicts or felons going in and outta jail. So no, I didn't 'fuck around town' with anyone."

Shane stopped and watched the other man, his shoulders slumped forward slightly, head dipped low. He walked as though he had had a few painful bone breaks in his life. Fuck, Rick was right. Carefully, Shane kept walking, minding to walk in the hunter's tracks and attempt to not be as loud as he had been before. "You know, maybe we could be friends, Daryl. I'd like that. We could fuck off around camp some, you know…"

Daryl just shrugged. "Never really needed friends."

Okay, this wasn't going the way he wanted it to. "Hey, man, hold up a minute, stop." He jogged up to where he was standing right in front of him, bodies about a food apart. Daryl stood patiently waiting for him, crossbow slung over his shoulder. "Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way." Reaching his hand out, like he had seen Rick do to him a few times before, Shane let his hand fall on Daryl's shoulder not holding the weapon. The younger man flinched but remained still. Slowly his fingers began to caress the muscle underneath the faded plaid shirt. "I'd like to be your friend. I'd like to get to know you better." Moving his hand up, he cupped the side of his dirty neck, thumb stroking his jawline as he'd done with Rick and Carl so many times before. The man before him was tensed, his body in an involuntary fight or flight response mode, but thankfully he stayed and didn't throw a punch. "Rick trusts you and wants you to be a part of the group. And well… I do too. I want you to be with us, Daryl. You're a valuable member, man. We need you."

Thin, chapped lips parted slightly. They trembled with a response but the words died on his tongue. Shane watched them, subconsciously licking his own lips in response. That familiar warming sensation was burrowing through his inner core again, except this time Rick wasn't here and it wasn't because of Lori. Daryl fucking Dixon.

Daryl just turned out of his grasp and continued walking in front of him. No response was given, but Shane felt as though he had made his point. At the very least he had done what Rick had asked him to do and even above and beyond by going out in the woods with Daryl and having his back. They had met very few walkers, but even less squirrel and no Sophia. Regardless, maybe he and Daryl could erase the hatred they felt for each other.

What he hadn't told Daryl about that story with Rick and the fence was that was the first night that he had kissed the other man. On lonely nights he thought back to that kiss, Rick half naked in his arms, bodies pressed together, just so thrilled that they had gotten away with it. The adrenaline rushing through their bodies no doubt fueled their poor decision that night. That had been their first kiss, but certainly not the last. It was a dirty secret that neither man had ever shared but once Rick had gotten married it had all been over.

With his hand on the back of Daryl's neck, warm skin underneath his fingertips, it was exactly like that night back on Old Man Johnson's farm. Only that time, he had pulled Rick in for the kiss. Silently, he trudged along behind the other man, wondering what would have happened had he done the same with him?

*Code 273A is Child Neglect, Code 273D is domestic violence in the police 100s


	4. Chapter 4

Shane and Daryl made it out of the woods, neither having killed the other one much to their own surprise. Shane would admit that he had enjoyed their little excursion, even given the few awkward moments and the long hours of finding absolutely nothing. Daryl hadn't talked much but what he had said had spoken volumes. So maybe Rick had been right. Shane would give him the benefit of the doubt until he was proven otherwise, but that still didn't mean that Daryl would move up into being Rick's right hand man. That was his position and his position alone.

Rick eyed Shane as he walked over to his tent, stripping his sweat stained shirt off his body as he went. "Where ya been, Shane?" he asked hesitantly.

With a casual glance over his shoulder, he took some water from a pan that they had out and splashed it over his chest and face. The deep blue of Rick's eyes followed the water droplets as they cascaded down to his waistline before flicking back up to look him in the eye. Shane smirked knowingly, "Been out with Daryl. You told me to make an effort so I did."

Rick nodded, still not able to take his eyes off of the man in front of him. "Everything go okay?"

Shane stepped closer, leaning down so the rest of the camp couldn't hear their conversation. "I think you were mostly right. He's not like his brother, but I still want to keep an eye on him. I don't trust him entirely yet."

Rick nodded, moving his foot to take a step back to be out of each other's personal space, but Shane's hand caught him on the small of his back, bringing him closer. "Shane," he hissed.

"What?" he asked coyly. "I ain't done yet and you're already trying to walk away from me."

"What else?" Rick's eyes danced from side to side making sure that no one was watching them. Quickly, he removed Shane's hand from the small of his back but otherwise stayed put.

Shane glanced up over Rick's shoulder to see Daryl wander into camp to drop off his load of squirrels and birds. He sat down on a stump next to Carol to clean them but cast a slight glance up at the two men. With a dry smile, he leaned in close to Rick, whispering softly in his ear, but never taking his eyes off Daryl, "Remember that night at Johnson's farm when you got caught on the fence?"

Rick's blush instantly spread. "Shane… that was a long time ago."

Running his hand over his bare chest, Shane took a step back. "You still think about it. And everything else we did after that." It wasn't a question. He knew the other man did in just the small look he gave him as he splashed the water on his chest.

"Do you?" he whispered.

Shane shrugged, still watching Daryl from over Rick's shoulder. He watched the two leaders closely, Carol babbling away at his elbow while his knife worked expertly even without his rapt attention to the squirrel in his hands. "Nearly every day but 's not like it matters now. You have Lori back and Carl and this new baby." Rick nodded, looking around for his family before spotting them over by the wash station. "And looks like you've taken a shine to Daryl."

Rick's gaze flew back to him, eyes wide. "Taken a shine to Daryl?"

"Little touches here and there, that laugh, whispering in his ear. Come on, Rick. I ain't blind. Just be careful where you put your dick. He probably has some kinda strange redneck disease." And with that he stepped into his tent, leaving Rick gaping after him.

Turning around to check on Dale's progress on the RV he saw Daryl quickly whip his head down. So what if he found the other man attractive? It wasn't like he was going to act on it and fuck Shane for even bringing it up. That was a side of himself that he had barely even thought about for the past 10 years. Stalking over to the RV with Dale and Glenn working in front of it, he went about the rest of his day frustrated with Shane for even bringing up their year of experimentation.

Just a few hours later found Daryl lounging in his camp, fresh from a wash from a bucket of cold water one of the ladies had poured for him and left at his camp. The thought was nice enough and it did feel fairly good to not be as grimey as he had been. His little fire was roaring hot in front of him as he roasted a squirrel on a stick, choosing to be completely separate from the group that evening. He had spent far too much time with people for his liking earlier in the day. Given past experience, he also figured Rick would wander over at some point to try to get him to join the other group and he was determined to not move.

But to his surprise, Shane stalked his way over to his fire and plopped down next to him on a log. "Going out again tomorrow?" he asked by way of greeting.

"'Course," he answered.

Shane just nodded as he saw Rick approaching them slowly. "Daryl, Shane," he said, nodding to each man in turn. Daryl looked up at Rick and over to Shane before looking back down at his roasted squirrel that was half eaten silently wondering if Carol was going to come over next to join the party he was apparently throwing. "Why don't y'all join the big fire at the main camp?" he asked, shifting nervously on his feet.

Shane shrugged, answering for both of them, "'S quieter out here. Daryl and I were just talking," he said with a wink.

Rick's back straightened as he glared daggers at his supposed best friend. "Talking, huh?" he said, knowingly.

Daryl looked up at Rick, noticing the carefully concealed emotion in his eyes. "Yeah, talking," he answered, finishing off his squirrel and throwing the remains in the fire. "Goin' out tomorrow. I think we got close today."

"Both of you are going out tomorrow?" Rick asked incredulously as he sat across the fire from them.

Daryl huffed, as Rick sat down. His quiet night was turning out to be the exact opposite of what he had hoped for.

"'S right," Shane answered. Rick's eyes shifted back and forth between the two men. Casually Shane reached a hand over, putting it on Daryl's shoulder and squeezing as the younger man flinched slightly before relaxing. The heat from Rick's eyes said it all as Shane's thumb rubbed slowly along the sharp shoulderblade.

"Daryl," Rick said, his voice harsh and authoritative. Daryl's eyes snapped up to his. He hated all of this attention and he wished both men would just leave him alone but he felt trapped between them. A feeling he hadn't had since before Merle left and he had been little, getting in the middle of fights between his brother and father. "You okay with Shane coming along with you tomorrow?"

Daryl just shrugged as best he could. "'Sokay," he said. "Did fine today."

Rick noticed he was back to his short answers, a tell tale sign that he was uncomfortable.

"Shane, can I talk to you?" he asked, motioning with his head. "We gotta go over some stuff from today, if you'll excuse us Daryl."

Thank fucking God. "Sure," he mumbled, poking at the fire with his stick.

Rick nearly drug Shane to the edge of the forest line, a shit eating grin on the larger man's face the entire time. "Jealous much?" he asked.

"Fuck you, Shane. What's that all about? You can't bully him like that," Rick hissed.

"I ain't bullying him! We did do fine today."

"Did he ask you to join him tomorrow?"

"Not in so many words but the man didn't say no either."

"Don't run him off, Shane," Rick said, stepping up to get into Shane's face. "We need his skills and he's a good fighter."

Taking his opportunity, Shane grabbed Rick by the shoulders, flinging him around and putting his back against a tree. Bodily pinning him against the bark, Rick knew better than to put up a huge fight, lest someone from the camp hear or see the struggle going on. "Stop it," he whispered harshly instead.

Grinding his body against his captive, Shane smirked. "Jealous of Daryl? Or jealous of me since I get to be alone with him all day tomorrow? You never know what happens in the woods, right Rick?"

Rick growled, using his body weight to try to get the larger man off but he was never any match for Shane. "I'm not jealous of either of you."

Grabbing Rick's wrists and holding them over his head against the tree, Shane whispered in his ear, "Then why are you hard right now?" Rick grunted with his efforts to get the other man off, attempting to wrestle his hands free, succeeding once before having them taken again. In a swift move, Shane flipped him, pinning his arms low on his back, resting his front against the tree, face plastered against the bark. Pulling Rick's hands down, he thrust his hips against the clenched fingers. "Feel that? That's what happens when I think about Johnson's farm that one night. Those afternoons in the woods. The feeling of being inside you, sucking you off even."

"Ain't like that no more, Shane," Rick grunted against the tree, trying to clench his hands tighter and escape from the hardness pressing against his backside.

"Bet you'd want me to fuck you right now. Bend you over out here in these woods. Make you scream my name as you cum all over yourself. I'll send you home to your wife like that. Bet you'd like that, huh? Did she tell you she fucked me when you were dead? Huh? I thought of you as I fucked into her. Wanted to feel you…"

"Hey Rick, something's wrong. Lori's looking for ya," came Daryl's soft voice behind them.

Immediately Shane released Rick, righting his clothes and adjusting himself in his pants.

"Fuck, Daryl. You got a bad habit of sneaking up on people, man."

Rick saw the loaded crossbow in Daryl's hands, aimed low but at the ready. He nodded his thanks at Daryl before heading off towards the main camp, not entirely certain if Lori needed him or if Daryl was just looking for a way to get them separated.

With a short look at Shane, Daryl turned and walked back to his camp, crossbow lowered to his side, the arrow taken out of it. Shane followed him, sitting next to the man in the dirt.

"Look, Daryl, what you just saw-"

"Ain't about Lori, is it?" he interrupted.

Shane shook his head. "Not entirely, but some of it is. In high school we both went after her but for some reason she chose Rick."

"Kinda seems like you went after Rick too."

Shane laughed softly but nodded. "Yeah. I didn't tell you the whole story about Old Man Johnson's farm that night."

"Don't need details."

"Yeah, guess you don't. Rick and I fooled around for about a year before he and Lori got serious. Then he just called it quits. Guess I never really got over losing both him and Lori."

"Carl know?"

"Nah, you kiddin'? The last thing I wanna tell that kid is 'so yeah I've fucked both of your parents.' How damaging would that be to know your dad used to take it up the ass every once in awhile?"

Daryl just shrugged.

Shane turned, finally looking at Daryl for the first time the whole night. "You got cleaned up, man. Look good." Daryl side eyed him before nodding, staring off into the fire, knees drawn up to his chest. Shane reached out, brushing away a stray piece of longish hair that had fallen down into the other man's eyes. The expected flinch was subdued. Shane's body still thrummed from shoving Rick up against that tree, adrenaline coursing through his veins giving him a false courage and strength. "You ever had sex with a man, Daryl?" he asked quietly.

"Fuck off, I ain't queer," came the equally quiet response.

Daringly, Shane ran his hand through the long locks at the back of Daryl's head. "Ain't asking if you're queer. Asking if you've been with a man." He waited for a response but was never given one as his fingers still lightly stroked the back of Daryl's head. They sat there like that, one slowly getting used to the other's touch as the fire burned in front of them. They only broke contact when Daryl got up to put another log on the fire.

"Ain't never really had any interest in anyone," Daryl finally said. "Was always worried about surviving. Had to eat, had to avoid my dad, ma burned herself up in a fire, and Merle was either high, drunk, or in jail. I was always on my own. Never figured anyone would really want someone like me anyways. Tha's what dad always said. Ain't never gonna bring a girl home 'cause no girl would want t' come home with me."

"So you ain't never had sex?"

Daryl shrugged. "Fucked girls in the back seats of cars from the bar. Never really dated though. Never had the money to."

Shane nodded. "So your sexual experiences were random hookups with bar whores? Man, we gotta get you laid."

Daryl scoffed. "Ain't fuckin' no one here."

"Male or female?" Shane asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Fuck off," Daryl said, standing up just for something to do to get himself away from the other man.

"Hey, man," Shane said, suddenly serious. "You ain't gonna tell no one about me and Rick, right?"

Daryl shrugged. "Ain't got no one to tell. 'Sides, we all have our secrets."


	5. Chapter 5

"Yeah, I guess everyone has their secrets," Shane said, looking down at the fire. "Man, I could really go for a drink right now."

Daryl reached over and into one of the saddlebags of his motorcycle, pulling out a flask and tossing it over to him. "Don't drink it all, man. 'Sall I got."

"Where the hell did you get this?" Shane asked incredulously, unscrewing the top and taking a long swig. He closed his eyes, enjoying the liquid warmth as it spread down his throat and into his chest. "Holy shit it burns."

"'S moonshine. Merle had a stash in the truck. Fucker drank most of it. That was all I could sneak away from him." His fingers twisted in the back of his hair where Shane had been stroking it, smoothing it out from where his fingers had been entwined.

"Damn, never thought I'd be happy for the existence of Merle Dixon." Taking another strong swig, Shane handed it over to Daryl, watching as he tried to smooth out his hair. "Come on, now. I ain't gonna drink by myself."

Shrugging, Daryl took the flask, taking a sip and wincing. "Damn, does burn, doesn't it?"

"Like hellfire," Shane smiled, looking back over at the main camp. The group was gathered around the fire. He could see Rick sitting next to Lori, but his gaze was on them. Shane knew the man had an interest in Daryl, whether or not he recognized it in himself, but he had Lori. What interest should he be having in this man? Shane was the one without anyone right now. With an eye still on the main camp, he decided he was going to try to make his move. He'd win Daryl over before Rick ever even got out of the starting gate.

But he would bide his time. He knew he had to with Daryl and just the information about his past that the man had shared with him. What hadn't he shared yet? But he had been allowed to stroke the back of his hair. Shane smiled to himself. There weren't many people who didn't like the feeling of their head being stroked or hair played with. Maybe if he got a little drunker he could blame it on alcohol if it really came down to it. Then again, Daryl would probably be just as drunk as he was and the man didn't seem like he'd be a happy drunk. The options were slim, but Shane figured he'd take his chance.

"How's that recoil on that crossbow? Anything like a shotgun?" he asked, drinking more from the flask before handing it back.

"Yeah, it's a lot like a shotgun actually. Hurts like a bitch at the end of a day," he muttered, rotating his shoulder for emphasis before taking a long swig from the flask and holding it up in front of him. "This right here helps though," he smirked before drinking more.

Shane smiled casually and snagged his opening. "Why don't I rub that out for ya?" he suggested, laying out the innuendo.

Daryl shook his head, his gaze falling back down to the fire as he handed the flask back over, the warmth already coursing through his blood. He knew a snake when he saw one and based on what he saw in the woods, Shane was venomous, especially when it came to Rick it seemed. "What would Rick and Lori think if you started rubbing up on me?"

Shane just shrugged back, taking more of the liquid fire before putting the flask down in the dirt between them. "I ain't back at the fire with them. Lori's made her choice. Her husband came back from the dead. Apparently I was just a fucking stand in to get her and her kid out of harm's way since my best friend was laying dead in the hospital. I listened for his fucking heartbeat, man, and I didn't hear anything. You think I woulda left him if I had thought he was alive?" He didn't really wait for an answer before he kept going. "And then to see Rick just come walking into camp. Holy shit." His eyes went wide with the memory as he ran a hand over his shaved head. The fire danced in his watery irises as he stared down into it, Daryl never taking his eyes off his face as he watched the inevitable breakdown happen. "When I saw him come back, it was like the fucking walking dead. That man was dead when I left him. I swear to you. My heart broke…," he choked up. "And when I saw him again. Daryl, man. Everything. It just started coming back. I kept it back for so long but I was just…"

"If ya thought he was dead, then… at least ya checked," he tried. It was a helluva lot more than what he and his brother did for their dad and uncle, though he was pretty certain that they were dead. Or dying. Or rather he hoped they would be dead.

"I did, man. I swear I did. But now," he swung his hand back towards the main camp. "I'm a fucking leper."

"Maybe ya shouldn't trap a man against a tree. Ain't no expert, but I wouldn't say that's a way to get someone," Daryl said, grabbing for the flask again. This night was turning into a shitbox. "Why dontcha go talk to him?"

Shane paused, turning his face up to look at the stars. The moonshine was warm in his body. His fingertips were going numb and yes, this was just about the right amount of drunk.

"Cause maybe I don't want to anymore."

Daryl looked down at the flask in his hand, not wanting to think about what that statement implied. "I think it's best ya go on back to camp and get some rest if ya want to go with me tomorrow."

"You don't want me to rub your shoulder for you?"

"Nah, 's alright."

Shane nodded, standing up to hobble back over towards the main group. "All right then. Thanks for the alcohol and you know…. everything."

"Yeah, man." Daryl watched Shane stumble across the grassy field, feet tripping over objects that weren't there as his body caught up with the amount of alcohol he drank. Putting out his own fire, he fumbled with the zipper on his tent before falling into it and zipping it back up. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his vest and shirt before settling into the sleeping bag. Shane Walsh was proving to be an interesting person suddenly thrust into his life. He wasn't used to someone being so open and suggestive with their sexuality except for some women he met at the bar. The only men though that hit on him were his brother's friends who had gotten out of prison. He remembered many nights where Merle had asked him to 'spend time' with a friend or two to pay off some of his drug debts, telling him that he just had to hang out with them, but Daryl knew that wasn't the full extent of what they wanted. At first he told him to fuck off. Then one night, Merle didn't come home. Their daddy beat him within an inch of his life; face, chest, and back all bloody from the buckle on his belt. With each smack, he screamed that Daryl was the reason Merle was gone and dead. If Daryl had just done what he had been told to do then Merle would still be around.

Three days later, Merle was kicked out of the tailgate of an F150 in their front yard before the truck sped off. Battered, bloody, and bruised, Norman was terrified he'd had lost his brother then, but he had his own set of problems to worry about, including his badly broken ribs and nose from the beating his father laid on him. From that moment on, Daryl agreed to help pay his brother's debts. Some weeks it was with whatever extra cash he had earned. Other weeks… he didn't want to think about that, but they left his brother alone and always said nice things to him whenever they saw him. He supposed that was something.

But that was years ago and for a brother he didn't have anymore. Looking up at the ceiling of the tent, Daryl contemplated the power dynamics of their little group. Rick was undoubtedly their leader in his mind. Shane was a violent and temperamental substitute and always had been. Now without his brother he was stuck here and he had to pick a side and play to it.

The next day, Shane was up before daylight, wanting to get a jump on the morning before Daryl left him behind. His head only slightly pounded from the moonshine they had shared the night before, but his memory of his rant was still fresh in his mind. Now that the hunter knew something that could completely destroy him and his position in the group, he had to keep tabs on the man even closer than he had intended to in the first place. Stepping out of his tent, he was stopped by Lori, arms crossed over her chest, looking every bit the angry woman he remembered from Rick's marriage pre-apocalypse. "Not now, Lori," he said, trying to brush past her to go brush his teeth and get rid of the damn cottonmouth he had developed overnight.

She stopped him, small hand on his arm, roughly turning him as he tried to brush by her. "Don't tell me not now. You're going out with him again aren't you?"

Shane just nodded, hands on his cocked hips. "Yeah, what about it? Someone's gotta watch his back. He's the best hunter we got and I'm the best shot."

"What is it about him, Shane? It's not just the food or you wouldn't be trying this hard."

Straightening, he mimicked her pose, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Leave it, Lori. Its way more complicated than you even need to worry about. It's just me having his back." With that, he turned and started walking off again until her quiet voice stopped him.

"Then what about Rick?"

Shane shrugged. "He has to keep all of his ducks in a row as the leader of our little ragtag group. Right now Daryl is the wiley duck that he needs to reign in. 'Sall I can figure." He wasn't going to tell her about the little touches he's noticed her husband give Daryl. Nor was he going to tell her about how he had Rick pressed up against a tree the day before knowing the other man was hard. No, that was hers to figure out.

Rick appeared next to him at the wash station, picking up the communal toothpaste to put on his brush. "So you're really going out with Daryl again today?" he asked quietly. Shane just nodded. He was getting really tired of the question. "He doin' all right?"

Spitting into the grass, Shane answered, "Doin' just fine. Better'n the rest of us." Rick just nodded as he started to brush, running his other hand through his unruly hair. "You always did look cute with bedhead," Shane chided as he reached up to tame a flyaway curl.

Rick spat and smiled, ducking out of Shane's touch. "Need to get Carol or Lori to cut it."

For a second, Shane hesitated before reaching out again to run his fingers through the other's growing locks. "Nah, I like it. You should let it grow. It's sexy."

Shaking his head, Rick put his tooth brush, handle first, into the back pocket of his jeans, resting his hands on his hips. "Guess you should get goin' to Daryl then."

"Jealous?"

Rick looked off into the distance, away from the camp, out to the fields surrounding the farm before answering. "Yeah… Guess I kinda am."

"Me or him?" Shane asked softly, surprised at the actual admission.

Rick shook his head. "Not really sure yet. But what I do know is that what you did yesterday in the forest can't happen again."

"Daryl won't say nothing, but I know. It was a slip, Rick. I'm sorry. It's just been so long…"

Taking a step back, Rick nodded his understanding. "I know, but you can't turn to me, Shane. And don't… don't run Daryl off either."

Shane smirked, waving off Rick's comment as he walked away towards Daryl's camp. He could see the other man already gathering supplies to take with him into the woods, glancing over at him from across the field to see if he was coming. "He's a grown man, Rick. Can decide if he wants to or not."

Hours later, Shane was tired. He was tired of walking. He was tired of silence. He was tired of being the only one talking. He was tired of awkward. He was tired of hunting down a ghost. Hell, he was just plain tired. "Think it might be time we head back now, dontcha think?"

Daryl turned and looked at him. "Ya can if you want. 'Sonly midday. Got a lot more ground to cover."

Shane sighed. Midday. "Daryl, you know she ain't out here. If she is, she's done been dead and probably turned. Ain't nothin' left of her, man. Let's just go on back to camp."

Daryl stopped walking. His voice tightly controlled as he said, "Go on, Shane. I ain't done yet."

Shane huffed, roughly grabbing the man in front of him. "Look man, I know you want to bring something back for Carol, but she just ain't here. Can't you see that? You're wasting your energy and time chasing a ghost."

The fist connected with his jaw before he ever even saw it coming, knocking Shane back a few feet, releasing Daryl from his strong grip. What Daryl hadn't anticipated was the fury that one punch would release. In seconds he was disarmed of his crossbow and down on the forest floor face first. Shane's body a solid weight on his back, holding him down. A brush of hips against his ass, feeling the half-hard cock through the army fatigues had Daryl closing his eyes tightly, his own body tensing as he waited for the assault he figured would be coming.

Shane watched the tone of his body change as he pushed against him, holding him down to the ground. He saw his face scrunch as his hips brushed against his ass. He would be lying if he hadn't pictured this very scenario a few times, cock in his hand when he was alone in his tent, but something about it just made him stop. If he was going to win Daryl before Rick ever got the chance, this wasn't the way to do it. Instead, he released his grip, brushing his hands through Daryl's unruly hair to get it out of his face. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you." Sitting back on his knees, Shane gave the other man space to get up, but he stayed put, face in the ground, ass in the air. "Daryl…"

Shane stood, taking a step back to really give the other space, but he still sat there, breathing heavily, eyes clenched shut. Suddenly, his police training kicked in and screamed panic attack and sexual assault victim in his head over and over again. Cautiously, he stepped closer, kneeling to the side of him and resting his hand carefully on his back without much pressure. With his other hand, he placed it softly on the side of Daryl's face, brushing his cheek with his thumb before moving it around to stroke his hair like he had the night before. "You're okay, man. Just breathe," he said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. I ain't like that."

"Ya woulda Rick if I hadn'ta stopped ya," Daryl mumbled, eyes still clenched tightly shut but his body was slowly uncoiling.

Shane sighed. "I wouldn't have. Rick knows how to win against me in a fight. He's beat me several times. He's a wiley fucker when he needs to be. Plus, it's Rick. Sometimes ya gotta beat something in his head to get it across." His hand was still moving along in his hair, but the other man was not moving from his position. Sighing, Shane sat back against the tree next to him, physically manhandling the other man to bring him up to his chest.

Daryl struggled, eyes flying open when he realized he was being moved. "Calm down," Shane whispered in his ear. "I promise I ain't gonna hurt ya. I bet no one ever held you like this." Pushing the dirty blond head against his shoulder, he rested his chin on top of it, wrapping his arms around the still taut body as it lay against his chest. "Just calm down, man."

Daryl's eyes were blown wide as he was embraced. His head was on a rock-hard shoulder with Shane's sharp chin resting against his skull. He laid sideways against the strong body, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath his muscular chest as the arms flexed around him, trying to hold him in place. Softly, Shane kissed his forehead, forcing his breath to be slow and even, trying to get Daryl to match him. What felt like hours later, the body in his arms slowly started to relax as his head lulled against his shoulder, forehead dipping into his neck. Without the fear of the other man striking out against him, Shane released his arms, rubbing along Daryl's back and arm.

"You didn't pass out on me, did ya?"

"No…," came the quiet reply.

"You ok?" When Daryl didn't answer, Shane just continued rubbing his back. "We can stay like this as long as you want man. I didn't mean to scare ya like that. Just wasn't sure if you were going to try to kick my ass."

"Woulda," Daryl muttered.

Shane snickered. "Glad I subdued you then. You'd probably fight like Rick does, which is unfair by the way."

"Kick ya in the balls?"

"Nah, he used to like them way too much to do any damage to them." That made Daryl stifle a laugh. Cautiously, he brought a hand up, resting it on Shane's chest. "Anyone ever hold you like this?" Shane asked softly.

"My ma when I was little. Not since then though."

Shane brought his own hand up, resting it on top of Daryl's on his chest, pressing it flatter against him. "You can touch you know."

And just like that, Daryl shot up, putting distance between them as he marched over to grab his crossbow. "Shouldn't sit any longer. Might be walkers around. 'Sides, gotta keep lookin' for Sophia," he said, and stalked off.

Shane sighed. He had been so close.


	6. Chapter 6

Just before dusk, Shane and Daryl emerged from the woods, filthy, exhausted, and with nothing to show for it except for a few squirrels and two rabbits that Daryl had bagged along the way. He took them back to the main camp, skinning them with heavy eyelids.

Shane sat on the picnic bench, watching the group gather and disperse at the sight of them and the fresh meat. Rick sat down next to him, never really leaving his side nor saying anything until most of the people had gone about their business. "Hershel asked that we not have our guns loaded and out on his property anymore. Said he this was his home not an armory."

"Yeah well, Hershel ain't been everywhere we have. He don't know what its like anymore and every fucking place should be an armory," Shane groused. He watched Daryl's hands work with a few slips, showing his tiredness.

"Yeah, well it's still his property. Said he wants us gone as soon as possible. I'm trying to convince him otherwise."

"Better keep Glenn away from the farmer's daughter then."

Rick snorted. "I think it's a little late for that. She's done some pursuing of her own too."

"Yeah, I seen that. Poor kid doesn't know what he's gotten into with that girl I think."

"She's got a strong personality, that's for sure."

"Yeah."

"How'd it go with Daryl today?" Rick asked, casting his eyes sideways at Shane, checking for any body language that would give him away.

"Just fine," he said. "He had a panic attack though. Had to hold him until he calmed down," he added, turning to face Rick, daring the other man to say something.

Rick nodded as if he had expected as much, but the bright blue of his eyes showed his surprise. "He let you hold him?"

"Yeah, for a bit. Tight as a fucking wire but eventually he relaxed against me. Let me rub his back and stroke his hair even," Shane grinned at the last part, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I have to say, it was nice feeling his head on my shoulder and his hand on my chest."

Rick snorted, but turned to watch Daryl. "What'd he have the panic attack about?"

Shane shrugged, hands on top of his head as he got more comfortable on the bench. "I told him same thing I've been telling you. That we're chasing a ghost. He swung on me, hit me square in the jaw so I grabbed him. Musta had flashbacks from his family when I got him pinned down to the ground."

"That's rough, man," Rick mumbled, watching as the hunter stood, wiping his blade off on his pants. He looked over at the two men, first Rick then at Shane, blue eyes downcasted before he gave them a curt nod and headed off towards his camp.

Shane watched him walk away, enjoying the curve of his back as it smoothed over his round ass. As Daryl dipped into his tent, Shane stood, grabbing a bucket of water and a rag. "Gonna go make sure he's all right," he told Rick.

Rick stood, hand on his arm as the other reached for the bucket. "I think I'll take care of that for you. Don't need to be setting him off on another panic attack."

Shane let him take the bucket out of his hand. He wanted to fight, but honestly, he was too damn tired. The Georgia heat had taken out any fight he had left and he himself needed to get washed up. He knew he stank ten ways to heaven. So instead, he let Rick take the bucket of water over to Daryl. Let him figure out on his own that Shane didn't lie to him. He hadn't actually tried anything with him in his vulnerable state except for holding him until he calmed down. Shane was pretty damn proud of himself for that too. Let Daryl tell Rick himself that he and Shane make a good pair. Rick can pour salt in his own wound.

Shane stood there and watched until he saw Rick call out to Daryl and see the man emerge from the tent, looking down at the bucket. He saw the look of confusion on his face as he looked back towards camp and return his gaze to Rick. Shane smirked. Maybe Daryl had expected _him_ to come out to his camp. Perhaps the surprise of someone else out there might drive Daryl into his own tent later. Shane hummed as he made his way over to another bucket, taking a cloth and wiping his chest, arms and face down. Perhaps he'd go down to the lake in a bit and really wash up before he went to bed.

Daryl stood outside his tent, eyeing the bucket Rick had in his hands. "Shane was going to bring it, but I thought maybe you had had enough of him for the day," he smiled sheepishly, holding the pail out.

Daryl just snorted, taking the bucket from his hands and mumbling his thanks.

"He said you had a panic attack," Rick continued before Daryl could disappear again.

He thought about just ignoring the comment and going in his tent, but at this point he knew better. Rick was a persistent fucker. "I swung on him."

Rick nodded. "Yeah, he said that too. Said he caught ya and got ya pinned down and you started to panic."

Daryl sighed, sitting the bucket down and looking up squarely at Rick. "You wanna talk about my feelings now?"

Rick shrugged, trying to not look threatening nor defensive. "Just wanted to make sure that Shane didn't overstep his bounds."

"Like he did with you yesterday in the woods?"

Daryl's look was challenging. Rick backed up a step, hands going to his hips. "Something like that."

"He hurt ya before?" Daryl asked quietly.

Rick smirked, "Since we did this discussion get turned to me?"

Daryl shrugged, sitting down on the stump next to him. He figured if Rick wanted to talk, his bath was going to be awhile away. "He told me 'bout y'all and Lori. I won't say nothing but thought it was only right for you to know."

Rick nodded sitting across from Daryl in the dirt, knees drawn up, resting his arms on his legs. "Yeah, that was a long time ago. Once I got with Lori though, it was over between us. And no, he never hurt me physically. He's a manipulative man, though, Daryl. You need to know that."

"Kinda figured that out already," he said, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.

"So did he overstep his bounds?"

"Nah." Running the toe of his boot in the dirt, Daryl considered the events of the day. To be fair, Shane hadn't really overstepped anything. Did he want to have a panic attack? No. Did he want to be cuddled in the other man's strong arms? Not really, but it wasn't an awful experience. Just fucking uncomfortable.

"He said he held you to calm you down. Did he try anything?"

Daryl snorted. "Can take care of myself." Rick looked pointedly at him. "No, he didn't try anything. Woulda knocked his block off." Rick nodded at that. "Ya sure he never hurt ya?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure. I've fought against him before." Daryl didn't like the sound of that. He had fought against his dad and brother before, that didn't mean that they didn't hurt him.

"Lori?"

Rick sighed. "She gave him those scratches on his face back at the CDC. She said he tried to get up on her but he was drunk. He disappeared back to his room after that."

Daryl nodded hesitantly. He had no good way of telling Rick that Shane reminded him of his dad and brother. They were both manipulative assholes who would promise you the world and then beat you into the ground if you tried to make good on it. Hell, even if you just breathed in their general direction. Daryl had many bruised ribs and broken arms because of walking through the front door at the wrong time. He sensed that Shane had that in him too and that if Rick wasn't careful, it would be directed at him and at the wrong time.

Rick gave him a little smile, bending to catch his downcasted gaze with his own sapphire blues. "I can handle Shane. If ya don't want him around ya anymore, just tell me."

"Sure looked like ya can handle him with ya pinned against the tree yesterday. What woulda happened if I hadn'ta followed ya into the woods?"

Rick sighed, looking back over at the main camp. No one was really paying them any mind. "He woulda let me go. I doubt he woulda done anything with everyone so close."

"So what if y'all go on a run? Huh? Ain't safe, Rick. I know his kind. Hell, I _lived_ with his kind. You're our fucking leader. What would happen if we lost ya?" Daryl's face burned hot with closely bridled anger and pent up frustration with the man in front of him.

"I didn't want to be a leader-"

"Well ya are," Daryl cut him off. "He's trying ta take over. Ya can't…" He sucked in a breath.

Rick moved over to sit next to Daryl. "I won't. And you won't. We're in this together."

Daryl scoffed, looking over at him. "Ya lose your mind back in Atlanta? In case you haven't noticed, it's every man for himself out here."

Rick shook his head. "Nah, it ain't. We all depend on each other here. Everyone does their part."

"Yeah? What's Andrea's part? Dale? Huh, smart man? I fuckin' feed y'all. Ain't none of y'all made out for a world like this. I've always been in a world like this. Every damn day is about survival."

Rick felt the tension coil in the man beside him. "Exactly. So we need you. I'd love it if you taught me to hunt and track like you can. Hell, even to be half as good as you. I admire you, Daryl. You're a good man," he said, resting his hand on the base of his neck. The tension in his shoulders surprised him.

Daryl huffed, the fight leaving him slightly at the warmth on the back of his neck from Rick's hand. In less than 24 hours he had had two men care for him more than his own family ever really did with positive touches and words. It took the fucking apocalypse for him to find decent people? Arms crossed over his chest, he looked over at Rick, taking in the kind, soft features, gentle and encouraging smile. He didn't fight back or raise his voice when Daryl had; he hadn't raised his hand to him or shoved him down face first in the dirt. He had told him he was a good man and that he was needed.

Rick Grimes was one of the best men he had ever met.

Daryl broke eye contact, looking down at the ground, at his muddy boots and dirty pants. He felt like he wasn't even worthy of being in this man's presence like this. He huffed, standing up. "Ya can take the bucket back to someone else. I'ma head down to the lake to wash up proper."

Rick nodded, watching as Daryl disappeared back in his tent.

Standing waist deep in the lake, Daryl took in the setting sun as its rays dipped beneath the treeline. In minutes it would disappear entirely, leaving the hazy dark blues and grays of the early evening. Taking his bar of soap, he continued to scrub his body and hair, trying to get the past few days worth of grime and walker blood off his skin. He'd never admit it to anyone, but it felt good to go to bed clean. Neither running nor warm water was ever really a luxury he had had growing up, so bathing in the lake was nothing to him. Most often the money meant to pay the electric and water had been used for meth or alcohol before it ever made it to the utility company.

Daryl sighed at the coolness of the water on his hot skin. Surely he was sunburnt in some patches, but that would disappear in a day or two. A minor sunburn was nothing to him. He dipped beneath the water to get the soap off his skin and hair, relishing in the feeling. Maybe once he found Sophia, Carol would let him bring her here so she could go swimming.

"Well, well, well, looks like I'm not the only one who wanted to take a real shower this evening."

Daryl whipped around, facing Shane on the bank of the lake, shirtless with a towel thrown over his shoulder. "Shit," he mumbled to himself.

"Don't let me stop ya," he said. "Just came to do the same thing." He stripped down, leaving his clothes on the riverbank before wading into the dark water. Daryl watched as he peeled his underwear off, tossing them haphazardly up on shore. "Forgot to bring clothes to walk back in," he said wading out to Daryl. "Hope the ladies don't mind me walking back in just a towel."

Daryl huffed, looking away. "Lake is yours, I'm finished." Wading back towards shore, Shane reached out, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Hey wait," he said, pulling the other man back to him. "I just wanted to make sure you're all right, after what happened this afternoon. Rick thought I had damaged the goods. 'S why he wouldn't let me bring you the bucket."

"Yeah. I'm all right," he said, turning to go again but Shane had yet to let go of his arm.

He pulled back once more, this time turning the other man so his back was facing him. "Fuck, Daryl," he breathed, taking his other hand and running it over the long scars along his back.

Daryl twisted out of his grasp. "Ain't your concern," he grumbled, escaping from the other man and wading towards the shore.

"Might not be in your mind, but holy shit, man. Your brother do that to ya?" Shane called after him as he soaked his body in the lake water, working the bar of soap over his skin quickly.

The crickets chirped as Daryl refused to answer the question. As he approached the shore, Daryl realized he had forgotten clothes as well. And a towel. _Fuck._ He stood, looking at the shoreline, waist deep in the water. He could towel off with his dirty shirt and wear his dirty pants back and change in his tent.

"You can use my towel," came Shane's voice from behind him. "Can have you wrapped around me later then."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Your lines ever work on any women?" he called back, still not moving from where he stood.

Shane waded up behind him, his shaved head making showering a hundred times faster. "Like you wouldn't believe, brother," he grinned. "Come on, now. Let me dry ya off."

Daryl snorted, but stayed put. "How about you just throw me my clothes?"

Walking up the shore and grabbing his towel, Shane shook his head. Daryl averted his eyes from the other man's nudity. How could he be so comfortable naked? "Nah, I think I'd rather have you come get them," he said as he bent over, toweling off his legs and then up his torso.

Considering his options, Daryl knew they were too far from camp to get someone else to bring him anything, not that anyone would anyways. Rick might and Carol, but the rest of those people could go to hell as far as he was concerned. And here Shane was, offering to share his own towel.

"Come on, man. I don't bite hard," Shane grinned, still naked on the shore but holding his towel out.

"Shit, fine," he said. Goosebumps began raising on his skin as the evening breeze passed through. Slowly he came out of the water, quickly reaching for the towel in Shane's outstretched hand.

Snatching it back, Shane laughed as Daryl nearly fell forward onto him. "Whoa there. Ya all right man? A little off balance there?"

Daryl grumbled and turned abruptly, heading for his clothing, but Shane caught his arm, bringing him back closer to him. and wrapping him up in the towel, rubbing his over his hair, face and shoulders before wrapping it around his back and pulling him in closer. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist."

The air was electric around them as Shane pulled him closer in the towel, wrapping it around Daryl's waist and securing it. Reaching up, he ran a hand through the unruly hair before cupping his face softly. "And now you look like an adorable drowned rat."

Despite himself, Daryl blushed, trying to twist out of the other man's grasp, realizing just how dangerously close they had become in the last few moments. Shane's half-hard cock stood before him, and Daryl would be lying to say he wasn't semi-stiff as well, but he pushed that thought away as an arm wrapped around his waist. "I had fun with you in the woods today," Shane said softly.

Mild panic started to bubble through Daryl's chest again. Placing both hands on Shane's strong chest, he pushed back. "Ain't like that, man."

"Come on, man. Who's going to know out here? I'm just saying I had fun with you is all. You going to run off and tell Rick now? That the way its going to be after I gave you my towel and everything?"

_Rick_. A warmth spread throughout Daryl's chest at the mention of the other man's name, his words from earlier ringing through his head. _I admire you, Daryl. You're a good man._ If only Rick really knew him, he wouldn't be saying those words, but he had said them often enough that even Daryl was slowly starting to believe him. But he knew _Rick_ was a good man. A damn good one.

"You still goin' after him?" Daryl asked quietly.

"Why?" Shane smiled smugly. "Ya askin' if I'm single?"

Daryl really wanted to punch him, but he remembered what happened last time and here they were both naked away from the group. He doubted things would go in his favor. "Askin' if you're still goin' after him like ya did last night."

A minor flash of confusion darkened Shane's features in the moonlight, loosening his grip on Daryl's waist. He watched as the hunter back away, bending over to pick up his clothes, throwing them on quickly before handing him his towel back. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," he finally answered as Daryl was pulling his boots on.

Daryl nodded standing up straight and looking Shane in the eye. "Ya touch him, ya ain't gettin' nothin' from me. Includin' goin' back out in the woods." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Shane standing there butt naked, towel in his hands, dumbfounded.


	7. Chapter 7

_Ya touch him, ya ain't gettin' nothin' from me. Includin' goin' back out in the woods. _The words reverberated in Shane's head as he lay in his tent, listening to the world wake up around him. He had been awake for hours now, wondering just what _exactly_ Daryl had meant by that. Was he just meaning that he was going to ostracize himself from Shane or that he would consider doing other things with him.

It might be worth laying off Rick for a week to see just what the Dixon had in mind. Plus, that could really fuck with Rick's head, especially if he and Daryl started spending more time together. Shane smirked at the jealousy that he knew would roll through his former police partner. The man was already jealous and they hadn't even done anything! Though the opportunity had presented itself to Shane, he didn't want to be that big of an asshole to take advantage of Daryl like that. He wanted to gain the other man's trust, lure him in, make him want this because Rick couldn't have another one. No, that wouldn't be fair. He had dumped him and stolen Lori from him. The least he could do was let him have Daryl.

The zipper on his tent slowly started to move down, the person on the other side trying to make as little noise as possible. Shane quirked an eyebrow, wondering if Daryl had gotten bolder overnight and maybe wanted to show him what he could possibly be having…. or maybe that was just the fantasy that he had wanted to be true. To say he wasn't at least a little disappointed when Lori's head popped into the opening would be an understatement. "What do you want, Lori?" he asked, closing his eyes and laying his head back down on the mat.

Lori climbed in the tent, zipping it back up just as slowly as she had opened it. "The camp's still asleep," she whispered.

"Yeah? So?" A soft hand ran down his nude chest to the waistband of his pants. Before it could get any farther, he grabbed it, holding her delicate hand in his before letting go. "Don't. You need to go, ya hear? We ain't doin' that no more. Go fuck your husband."

"The hell, Shane? First you were pissed because I wouldn't still fuck you and now you're throwing me out?"

Shane growled and turned on his side away from her as she sat, anger evident on her pale features. "Is it because I'm pregnant?"

He actually laughed at that. "Lori, do you have any fucking idea how happy I am that you're pregnant?"

"Sure don't show it."

Shane sat up. "I want that baby to be mine, but now that Rick is back… Shit, Lori," he muttered, running his hand over his shaved head. "But no, it ain't because you're pregnant."

"It's Daryl isn't it? You're fucking Daryl," she laughed quietly. "That's why you and Rick are after him." Lori sat back on her feet from her kneel beside Shane. "I should have known you both would want that again. I just thought you'd find each other…" She sighed.

Shane blinked, completely blind-sided by her comment. Grabbing her shoulders and pulling her close, he lowered his voice to make sure he made his point with her. "Ain't no one fucking Daryl. He's a damn lifeline for this camp and we know better than to fuck that up."

She recoiled from him, brown hair pressing against the side of the nylon tent. With venom in her voice she said, "What happened to you? You used to hate the Dixon brothers. Now you're best friends with the man?"

"Daryl is different from Merle. It'd do everyone a bit of good to spend time with him, but ain't like he gon' let all y'all now that you've basically pushed him out. Man does nothing but put food on your plate and you hate him." Shane scoffed, shoving Lori slightly before unzipping the tent and leaving quickly. "Fuck off back to your husband, Lori. He's the reason, all right? Woulda thought he'd be a reason enough for you too. Don't come in my tent again," he hissed, walking away to brush his teeth.

Rick lay in his tent, maybe ten feet away from Shane's. Tent walls were nothing like the plaster of his house. Everything could be heard loud and clear through the thin nylon. He had felt Lori leave and immediately knew where she was going, but made no move to stop her at this point. He knew what had been going on between them after the turn. So they had thought he was dead, he could forgive that. In his mind, Shane was a good man, still was, and if they had ended up together after his death, Rick would be okay with that. Hell, if something were to have happened to Lori, _he_ may have ended up back there in those strong arms that he remembered from their senior year of high school.

In the here and now though, he was proud of Shane for telling her no and standing up for Daryl and for their marriage, but the idea that Lori immediately thought that they were fucking Daryl… Rick shifted uncomfortably in his sleeping bag. Not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, though he would never admit it to anyone, but was he that obvious? He knew Shane had recognized the touches. Hell, he had been on the receiving end of them a long time ago, but the wedding band around his finger had stopped him from going any farther than the few touches he had allowed himself and that _Daryl _had allowed him.

But had Daryl recognized them as flirtatious? Running a hand through his messy tresses, part of him wanted to know. Because if he had, then Rick was never stopped or told that he wasn't like that or anything else. Rolling over onto his side before sitting up, he thought he needed to get up. It struck him just how much time Shane had been spending with Daryl and how he had been acting around him. Stroking his hair? Holding him? Rick knew what Shane was doing now and he needed to correct this and quickly before Daryl was even more square in the crosshairs than he already was.

He found Shane as was he was making his way back to his tent from the washing station. Looking over the other man's shoulder, he saw Lori helping Carol make breakfast, glancing over at them nervously every few seconds. "Shane, can I have a word?" he asked.

Nodding, Shane stepped over towards Rick. The man was still shirtless, not having dressed quite yet from the night. Rick took his time, admiring the physique before him, not quite masking his attention to the other man's body. "What's up, Rick?" Shane asked, smirking as he cocked a hip out.

"Want to talk with you about Daryl." Shane nodded, leading them off away from the camp a little. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going to go and he wasn't sure that the others would want to hear what they were going to say. Rick sighed, looking out over the farm fields before speaking. "You know, Daryl ain't another Lori."

Shane scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to walk back to camp.

"Shane, you know I'm interested in Daryl."

That stopped him in his tracks. Slowly he turned back around to face Rick, an evil grin spreading across his face. "Well, well. You finally admit to it."

Rick nodded, looking over at Daryl's tent in the distance and back at his wife at the food station. "Yeah… it's taken me a bit, but I've come to terms with it. Lori and I ain't been the same since even before the dead started walking and you know that."

"So what do you want me to say?"

"Nothin'. I just want you to lay off Daryl. I know you're only going after him because you sensed that I saw somethin' in him and that ain't fair to him."

Shane just shook his head. "Now, you see, that ain't entirely true, Rick. There you go gettin' all self-absorbed again. Maybe _I_ have an interest in Daryl. Ever think of that? We have spent a lot of time together out in the woods. He's funny when he gets relaxed around ya. Ain't that right? Was thinkin' about moving my tent out there with him."

Rick just stood there, looking out in the distance, not at anything in particular, processing the words Shane was saying but understanding everything he didn't say. After a long moment, he nodded his head. "Everything you do, you get permission from him first. If I even hear anything from him about you say or doing anything out of line or I see a mark on his body-"

"You mean on top of the ones that are already there?" Shane interrupted. "How you going to know, huh? Going to ask him to strip for ya so you can make a map of his scars? Damn it, Rick. I ain't gonna hurt him. I can't believe you'd even suggest something like that."

"I know you, Shane. Sometimes better than you know yourself." Rick nodded, effectively ending their conversation before turning to walk back towards camp.

"What if he volunteers to scratch an itch?" Shane baited him. He saw the way the other man's shoulders tensed but he never stopped walking, giving Shane his back the entire way.

"If you got an itch that you just can't scratch yourself, I'll let you come into my tent," Rick threw over his shoulder before he hit the encampment.

Shane watched him round the tents and head towards the RV. Dale had been watching them suspiciously from the top of the RV, alternating between sitting, standing and walking in circles. The man was a nosy piece of shit that Shane wouldn't even think twice about letting fall to the hands of walkers. What would he tell the others about this little conversation between him and Rick? Could he even hear them? Shane ran his hand under his nose, sniffing the sweat away. It was barely even morning and it was already balls-ass hot. With a short grunt, he walked with purpose to his tent to grab a shirt and over to Daryl's tent. But first, he had to clear the air on something.

"Hey, Dale!" he called up. The older man's head, complete with bucket hair, appeared from the top of the RV. "Can ya come down for a second so we can have a chat?"

"Rick asked me to be on watch…," he stalled.

"Won't be longer than 2 minutes, honest," Shane smiled up at him. Dale looked over towards where he was Rick disappear to before nodding and slowly climbing his way down, though still with his rifle in his hands. Standing before the imposing man, he stood, waiting for the conversation to start. "What you just heard between Rick and I needs to stay between Rick and I, ya hear?" he said, standing closer to Dale, getting into his personal space.

Dale nodded. "I didn't even hear your conversation to share it with anyone."

Shane looked at him hard for a minute before nodding, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder and squeezing it briefly before letting go. "All right then. See, I told you it wouldn't be longer than 2 minutes. 'Preciate your time." He watched as Dale scrambled back up on top of the RV and scan the horizon for any changes in the few seconds he had taken from his watch.

Making sure he had his weapons on him, Shane headed towards Daryl's tent, seeing the man just emerging from the opening. "Daryl!" he called, picking his gait up to an easy jog. He saw the glare and the hard lines of the other man's face before he was within even 15 feet of him.

"You alright, man?"

"The hell you want?" he grumbled, shouldering his crossbow and collecting the arrows he had made during the night.

Shane shrugged, patting the weapon on his hip. "Goin' out with ya again. Good backup. Hey you don't look like you slept well last night."

Daryl just shrugged. "Don't need back up today."

Standing his ground, Shane knew better than to back down but he didn't want to push the issue too much either. "Man, you don't need to be goin' out alone, especially if you didn't get any sleep last night."

"Daryl, I have to agree with Shane."

Both men spun around, Rick standing about ten feet away from the both of them, arms crossed over his chest defiantly. His eyes were trained on Shane with a hard glint. Daryl knew that look. His brother had given it to people nearly every day of his life. It spoke of threats and promises. With a soft snort he wanted to ask what happened between them but thought better of it. Instead he answered, "Just had nightmares. I'll be alright."

Shane reached his hand out, just as he had done to Dale, squeezing Daryl's shoulder. "Hey man, seriously-" He wasn't expecting the fist that connected squarely with his jaw, nor the snarl and attack that followed it. The crossbow was dropped in the dirt, along the arrows, seemingly forgotten at the moment.

Rick was on them in an instant, pulling the two men apart, though Shane didn't appear to be fighting back. Angry words fell out of Daryl's mouth that neither officer thought he was aware of. "I know your type" was the loudest, followed by a nice right hook. "Ain't layin' down for ya again" was the second understandable phrase with other sporadic words mixed in that neither could decipher. Rick was able to get Daryl's flailing arms pinned to his side and pull him out of kicking distance of Shane who had taken up a submissive stance on the ground, arms in the air with open hands.

All three men were breathing heavy, but Daryl's eyes never left Shane's body, following his every movement as he stood up. "Just wanted to help you," he said softly, risking a step closer.

Rick tightened his grip as Daryl attempted a lunge. "Go on, Shane, just get outta here," Rick nearly screamed at him.

Daryl tried to watch as he walked away though there was only so much movement Rick was willing to allow him. A full minute ticked by after the other was out of sight before Rick whispered calmly in his ear, "Want to tell me what that was all about?" Though he didn't loosen his grip, he did allow for his lips to brush the shell of Daryl's ear.

Daryl just shook his head, body still tense in Rick's arms. "Wanna let me go?"

Rick sighed but held on. "You mean you don' t like being wrapped in my arms? First Lori, now you. I'm beginning to get a complex," he joked. He earned a soft snort as Daryl's body slowly untensed and leaned back into him slightly. Rick took the cue and lessened his hold but didn't remove his arms. "Want me to keep Shane away from you?"

"Been tryin' ta keep him away from you," Daryl muttered so softly that Rick wasn't sure he heard it right.

"Away from me? Why's that?" He just shrugged, trying to sit up in the process. He let him go, but stayed on the ground, considering the response. "Daryl… you know what happened in the woods… that had something to do with what happened between us a very long time ago. Before I was ever even married to Lori-"

"I know. He told me," came the curt response as he picked back up his crossbow and arrows.

Rick nodded, not at all surprised by that. He figured Shane would let Daryl know he was bi in some way to test the waters and see his response. Though he had to admit that he was outed in this matter as well but it did make life a little easier. "I don't think I have to ask you to not tell anyone about that."

Daryl shrugged, turning to fully look at Rick, squaring off his broad shoulders. "Don't think I gotta tell you that baby ain't yours either."

Sucking in his bottom lip, Rick judged his next move. That had been a low blow, but he nodded anyway. "That's between Lori, Shane, and I, but I am well aware of their affair."

Running a hand over the back of his neck nervously, he watched as Daryl gathered his necessary equipment to be gone for the day looking for Sophia and hunting. "Does it bother you… about Shane and I?" He really wanted to know why he was saying _ain't gonna lay down for ya again_ but he figured that subject could be broached later. It wasn't like he was going to get an honest response at this point anyways.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head before turning and heading towards the forest.

"Want company?" Rick yelled after him but the other man just kept walking.


	8. Chapter 8

Rick was cursing himself for the stupidity of what he was doing. Following Daryl was like following a mountain lion, though he was only semi-certain that his claws were not as sharp. The brush he was tromping through was loud beneath his feet. He had contemplated following Shane instead and questioning him about what the _fuck_ that had been about back at the camp, but no he had to be an idiot and follow Daryl out into the woods armed with only his friggin' knife. Rick held his hand on the handle of if, ready for any dangers to come his way, but he wasn't expecting Daryl to come from behind him. "Why ya followin' me?"

Spinning around, Rick found himself just feet from the hunter, caught completely unaware that the man had circled back around him. Of course he should have known. Daryl was damn stealthy when he needed to be. "Wanted to make sure you were all right. Kinda stormed off there."

"Better than you would be out here unarmed. The fuck's wrong with you?" he said, coming closer to him.

Rick shrugged, not moving his hand from his knife. "Worried about you."

Daryl just stood staring at him, as if trying to determine if it was a lie. "I'm fine. Go on back. Your wife is waitin' for ya, I'm sure."

"She ain't much of a wife anymore." He wasn't sure why he said it, but once the words were past his lips he couldn't take them back. Daryl still stood just staring, but gave a slight nod.

"I get that. Doesn't change the fact that you're an idiot for bein' out here with just a knife."

"Well now that you're here I don't have to be so worried."

With a single snort, the hunter walked past him. "Go on back ta camp."

"Nah. I'm here now."

Stopping in his tracks, Daryl stood, shoulders tense. "First Shane, now you. What do y'all want from me man? Want me to just lay down for ya both? Is that what you're both after? 'Cause Shane made it pretty clear last night." The anger was flowing as Daryl turned back towards him, blue eyes hard and challenging as he stared down the older man.

Rick tried his best to look non-threatening, but stood his ground as the other man stalked up to him. "I ain't like that, Daryl." He sighed. "I'll admit, I'm interested, but I ain't touching what I ain't allowed. What did Shane do last night?"

"So that is what it's about," he whispered, taking a step back. He couldn't help the warm feeling spreading in his chest at Rick's admission that he was interested. Surely it was just sexual. He just wanted a fuck. That was all he was good for anyway, he told himself.

Rick risked a step closer. "What did Shane do?" he said, his voice taking an edge to it that Daryl had only heard used against Shane.

"Lent me his towel," he said.

"That ain't all."

Daryl shook his head. "Don't matter. He didn't get anywhere," he said, turning back around on his heel, but Rick's hand caught his upper arm, forcing him to stop.

"Daryl." His voice still held that edge and it made his heart pound and the tightness turn into a firm clench in his chest.

Throwing his crossbow and arrows down on the ground, he turned. "You want it right here? Huh? Ain't no one gonna see ya. The big bad fearless leader following me out in the woods to take advantage. That how its gonna be? Fine. How do ya want me officer?" As he spoke his words became more rushed and higher pitched, anger and fear evident.

"Ain't like that, Daryl," Rick choked out.

"You're a fucking liar," he spat, stepping closer. Getting into Rick's face, his words took on a more dangerous tone.

Rick still stood his ground. He knew he was reaching a very dangerous point and he had to step carefully with his words to avoid what could be a very dangerous fight for him out here in these woods. "I ain't. I'm interested in _you_. I ain't gonna take advantage. I ain't Shane. I'm not going to throw you down in these woods. I care about you." Daryl's body was tense as he breathed fire through his nose. He clearly had no idea how to react to those words. Rick hadn't moved since Daryl had advanced on him. There was no immediate shedding of clothing and he wasn't pushed over in front of him with his pants roughed down his legs. Rick watched as the thoughts and emotions flashed through the hunter's eyes, taking in and processing his words.

"Ya can't care about me. I ain't nothin'." His voice was so small. Rick barely heard it over the beating of his own heart hard against his ribcage, but the fierce defenses were not let down in his eyes.

"That's a lie. Whoever told you that was the liar." Rick watched Daryl's face contort. "You're smart. I mean, shit, Daryl. None of us can do what you do. And you… you care about us even though most of the people in the camp don't realize it. The way you look for Sophia. The food you bring back for us. You don't even eat anything you bring back unless Carol or I make you eat it. You're one of the most giving people I've ever seen."

Daryl took a step back. "Ain't givin'. Ain't worth nothin'."

Rick advanced this time, holding his hands out and taking the other man's shoulders in his firm grasp. "You are. Why can't you see that?"

"Why? Why ya interested in me? Why ya sayin' all these nice things to me all the time, man? I ain't done nothin' to ya."

Rick shook his head incredulously. "Who ever knows why they get interested in someone, Daryl? And like I said, it's just interest. I don't want it to change anything between us. I don't even know if you… I just care about you, ok?"

Daryl's shoulders slumped a little in his grip. The fight slowly leaving his body as he finally seemed to realize that Rick really wasn't going to hurt him that there was no real danger here. Off in the distance they heard a walker crash through the brush, shaking bushes as it walked closer to them. The silence hung heavy in the air between them as they watched it amble forward slowly. With it being only one walker, neither man moved much, waiting for it to get close enough before Rick dispatched it with his knife to its skull in one swift movement. Daryl seemed to deflate with Rick's hands off of him.

"You're a good leader," Daryl said quietly, watching as the walker went down easily beside them. "Best man I ever met."

Rick smiled slowly, wiping the blade off on his pants before resheathing it at his hip. "That means a lot coming from you."

Daryl nodded, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"I hope you don't think differently of me now, Daryl. I don't want my feelings to get in the way of any type of friendship that we had built."

Daryl shook his head, sucking in his bottom lip and scuffing his boots in the dirt. Looking off in the distance, he thought for a full minute before he responded. "Might be interested too."

Shane sat at the picnic table, a cold rag held to his face by Lori since he didn't even want to be bothered by it. "I told you. He just flew off the handle. We all saw it, Shane."

"Wasn't unprovoked, Lori," he muttered. His jaw hurt like hell and Daryl had gotten in some good licks on his ribs. But he hadn't fought back. Rick saw that. Daryl saw that. He hadn't fought back. Hell, he was almost proud of himself.

"Bullshit it wasn't unprovoked. All you did was offer to go out there with him and protect him in the woods while he looked for Sophia. How was that provoking?" she twittered away, concern and anger lacing each word.

"Wasn't about that. Was about before. I know exactly why he flew off the handle," he said, shifting his weight on the bench. He moved his head to the side, dodging her dabbing fingers in the cloth. "I'm all right, I told ya. Why don't you go help Carol with the laundry?"

At that moment, Rick emerged from the woods. The smile on his face could be seen from camp. Shane stood up at the same time as Lori. "Go help Carol. I'm gonna go talk to Rick. See what happened."

Lori looked torn. She wanted to run to her husband and make sure he was okay since he had fled into the woods following Daryl without his gun. He hadn't made it back into the tent since he went to brush his teeth. Rick was rarely an impulsive decision maker and his choice to run off in the woods after Daryl surprised many people in the camp. Except for Shane.

Shane stood watching his former partner walk back up towards their camp. His hips held that sway that was a telltale sign that Rick had gotten his way with something that he had wanted. "_Fuck_," Shane breathed, walking out to meet the other man outside of the camp line.

As Rick approached Shane, he raised his head, nodding his acknowledgement as he tried to walk by. Shane caught his arm, but he didn't turn. He just stopped in his tracks, patiently waiting for whatever he had to say. "Did you?"

"I caught up with him. I suppose he'll be all right. He said he'll be back before night fall." Rick tried to pull away again, but Shane still held him tight.

"'s not what I meant and you know it," he growled.

Rick wrenched his arm free, standing up straighter to match Shane's height. He knew he'd never have quite the commanding presence his friend had, but he could stand toe to toe with the best of them. "Ain't none of your concern anyway."

"I think it is. See, Daryl and I have been building a relationship the past couple of days-"

Rick scoffed. "You call him trying to knock your block off this morning a relationship? He told me about last night, Shane," he stepped closer, making sure his quiet words could only be heard between them as their hot breaths mingled. Both men knew how this looked to the rest of the camp, as if their two leaders were having a quiet fight, which is exactly what it was. They just probably wouldn't believe what, or rather _who_, it was over, nor why.

"Oh yeah, what about last night? How I saved his ass because he didn't bring a towel or a change of clothes to the lake? Huh?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I know you and your fucking 'lend a hand' moments like that."

"Hey, last night was nothing like-"

"Just stop, Shane. Leave Daryl the fuck alone. I think this morning made it pretty clear that he don't want you around no more." Rick turned and walked away, his footsteps punishing the ground as he walked. Shane just watched him go. This was not the way he wanted to end this. He wasn't going to let Daryl just have some bad nightmares about past experiences to make him push Shane away. He didn't go down like that and fuck Rick if he thought he was going to be the savior in this twisted story. Shane needed to make something happen and fast.

"You know Rick, he's usually back by now," Carol said softly from stirring the pot over the fire.

Rick looked up at the setting sun. The indigos were starting to fade into the oranges, yellows, and pinks. Silently he agreed. Daryl was normally back by now, so he had to have a damn good reason to _not_ be back yet. Shane paced the edge of the camp like a lion at the zoo. He had been on edge since before the sun even started setting. A few times he had gone off on a tirade that Rick had completely ignored. He had been yelled at for leaving him, for not making him come back with him, for letting him go in the first place, and the last one had been the classic "you can't stop me from going out there right now and finding his ass!" The entire camp got on that one and told him it was pointless. And it really was. They would never find the hunter because, hell, even in camp he was elusive.

At first, Rick had thought it was funny and a damn good show that Shane was putting on to try to convince him that he cared. Now, however, as the hours ticked on, and Shane's path killed the grass beneath his feet, Rick wondered if the other man hadn't actually begun to develop these feelings like he had been talking about. Maybe for once, Shane Walsh wasn't all talk, but he shook that thought out of his mind.

"I'm sure he's _fine_, Carol. He should live in the woods. He's happiest there," Lori chimed in from the picnic bench, opening some canned vegetables to warm up.

Rick shook his head. "He is happy in the woods, but it's killing him that he can't find Sophia. Maybe he got on a good trail and isn't willing to let up yet. If he ain't back by morning, Shane and I will go out."

"Fuck morning, Rick," Shane said, stomping his way over to them. "Something's wrong. We need to go. He would be back by now." He ducked inside the RV, pulling out the bag of guns they had stashed and taking out his favorites.

Right then, Andrea screamed from the top of the RV, "Walker! Rick, walker!"

Everyone at the camp turned. Rick squinted, grabbing his knife from his hip before looking back up at the Greene farmhouse. "I got it Andrea. Don't shoot it."

Shane bitched beside him, grabbing his own knife and the two men ran out towards the walker ambling slowly towards them.

"It's dragging something," Andrea muttered from the top of the RV. "I think I can get it." She angled her sights just like Shane had taught her.

"Andrea! Don't!" screamed Shane, looking back only once as they ran out.

As the two men approached, the walker stopped, and stared at them. "The fuck are y'all doin'?"

"Daryl?!" both men exclaimed.

"Fuckin' welcoming committee now?" he spat.

Rick took a step forward but Shane held him back. The man was filthy; his shirt sleeves were ripped off and tied around his slim waist with blood seeping through the thin cotton. His wifebeater would never be mistaken for white anymore. The dirty blond hair was caked in blood and plastered to his forehead. His whole coloring was more than just a shade paler beneath all the dirt, blood, and grime. Around his neck, he had four ears on a piece of string. "The hell happened?" Rick whispered.

A shot rang out from behind them. Daryl's body contorted sideways before collapsing in a heap. Both Rick and Shane screamed and rushed forward. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Rick turned towards the RV, looking at Andrea on the roof, standing up tall now, obviously proud of her shot. A soft look of confusion overtook her at their reaction. Beside him, Shane was bending down, pawing heavily at Daryl's limp body, looking for a bullet wound or any other kind of wound, tears threatening to fall as he searched.

Rick turned back towards the man on the ground, "It's Daryl," he whimpered. "You idiot, it's Daryl."

"He ain't bit," Shane said, running his hands over every inch of the other man's body. "Looks like she grazed him on the side of his head, here." He pointed to the left side where fresh blood was running down, mixing with the dirt and dried blood. The red seemed too vibrant on his skin.

Shane laughed slightly, motioning to Rick to move to his other side as they both pulled the limp man up. "He's all right. He'll be all right." Rick picked up the dropped crossbow, swinging it around his shoulder before taking Daryl's arm and draping it over his neck.

Rick started yelling as soon as they were walking back towards camp, Daryl lifeless in their arms. "Get Hersel! Somebody go get Hersel! _Right now_."


End file.
